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Lauren’s eyes hovered just slightly open; lethargic, and barely conscious. Rowan tried to coax her into talking, but she said nothing. Instead, she peered out from beneath the veil of her eyelashes, her gaze seemed distant, transfixed.
“You should try to eat something.” He looked over the tray of food. There was little more than broth, gelatin and some crackers, as well as a cup of iced tea and apple juice.
She seemed oblivious to his suggestion, still lost in the world halfway between awakening and sleep. He took her hand, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Lauren?” He said it more forcefully. Her gaze lifted up to his, but there was still that emptiness in her eyes.
“She won’t eat anything?” Bahati came in, looking refreshed. She now wore a pair of jeans and a form-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt, seeming at ease as she inspected the tray.
“Well, now, Lauren.” She clicked her tongue. “It’s not much, but you have to start somewhere.” She opened the wrapping around the plasticware and unfolded the napkin and lay it over Lauren’s chest. “My mother always said red Jell-O would cure anything. Green is for sore throats, and yellow is for upset stomachs.” She chattered as she spooned up a bite and held it to Lauren’s lips. Lauren didn’t turn away, but didn’t lean into the spoon either. Bahati was undaunted and pushed the spoon toward her. Instinctively or purposefully, whichever the case was, she opened her mouth and swallowed the Jell-O.
Bahati smiled brightly at Rowan. Rowan half-heartedly mirrored her expression, taking a seat. He watched as she repeated the feat until the bowl was empty. “There we go,” Bahati patted her leg. “How about some soup?”
Lauren managed a bit, finally turning her head away, yawning, her eyelids heavy as the morphine pump automatically fed her pain medication, and she drifted back to sleep. Bahati cleaned up, pulling the blanket up over Lauren’s arm.
“She’s been terribly quiet.” Bahati came over to the chair beside Rowan. She lowered her voice so Lauren could sleep.
“She hasn’t said anything since she first woke up,” he said. “And then it was only in Cherokee.”
“Cherokee?”
“I didn’t even know she spoke Cherokee.”
“Me neither.” Bahati shook her head. “But then again, I learn more about her with every assignment. She’s a bit of a mystery. She hasn’t ever really opened up to me.”
Rowan stared down into his hands. “It’s not just you.”
“It’s hard to get close to her,” she said. “She’s been hurt by someone close to her, I would guess.”
“She told me once that her whole family was like that. Her father left when she was little, and her mother wasn’t very affectionate. She speaks highly of her brothers, well, most of them ... but they aren’t close.”
“She once mentioned her older brother got a full football scholarship.”
“That’s Michael,” Rowan said. “He works as a contractor at NASA. I think she told me he was working on the spatial sensors and other monitoring systems for the newest generation of space shuttles.”
“Impressive. I’m surprised she never mentioned that.”
“She and Michael have some ... professional disagreements. They’ve always been competitive, and he keeps telling her he’s going to find aliens before she does.” Rowan rubbed his eyes. “He’s teasing, but I think it hurts her feelings. You know her, though. She’d never admit it.”
The conversation was interrupted when the orthopedic surgeon came in for rounds. “Good afternoon.” He introduced himself, and Rowan stood to shake his hand. He glanced over Lauren’s chart. “She came through surgery well. We were able to reset her shoulder and install some internal stabilizers on her arm. There’s a steel plate and four screws that are holding it together. Is she right-handed?”
“Yes,” Rowan said.
“Hmm. That will be a challenge, but I’m sure she’ll get through it just fine. Most people do.”
“How long will she have her arm like that?”
“We’ll re-evaluate in four weeks. If it is mending well, we’ll move her to a sling and start her on physical therapy. Within twelve to sixteen weeks, she should be mostly healed if all goes well.”
“So long?”
“It’s up to her. It could take less,” he said. “It was a pretty bad break, and we don’t want to rush it.” He glanced at the monitors that tracked her vitals, then examined the morphine pump. “Has she been awake much?”
“Just long enough to eat some Jell-O and some soup.”
“That’s encouraging. She needs to eat. We’ll back off a little bit on the medication and work towards some non-narcotics for pain management. If she does well, we can talk about sending her home in the next few days.”
“It’s a long flight back to San Diego,” Rowan said. “Will she be up to the trip?”
“We can keep her comfortable enough. I have a friend who’s an orthopedic surgeon in San Diego. I can make you a referral, if you like.”
“We’ll take you up on that.”
Before Rowan could even sit back down, two men in dark suits walked in. “Rowan Pierce?”
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Agent Andrew Miller, this is Agent Joshua Morrison. We’re with the FBI. We’ve been assigned to investigate the kidnapping and attack on Miss Grayson. Can we talk?”
Bahati furrowed her brow as she rose from her chair. “Why is the FBI investigating?”
“Miss Grayson’s attack occurred on Federal land. The National Park Service referred her case to us for follow up.”
“It’s Doctor Grayson, and she was kidnapped by a Bigfoot. Are you prepared to consider that option? Or are you going to tell me I’m a nut job too?” Rowan asked bluntly.
“A Bigfoot?” Morrison asked, stoically. “The Bigfoot?”
“You say it like there’s only one,” Rowan said.
“You say it like it’s real,” Morrison retorted.
Rowan pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s still just a theory, but so far, it’s the only one we have. We’re paranormal researchers. We came to Washington to look into reports of recent Bigfoot sightings around Mount Saint Helens. Thirteen days ago, Lauren was attacked by something we couldn’t identify. She was slightly injured in that incident. Twenty-four hours later, she went missing. We didn’t find her for ten days. It was freezing out there. I don’t think a random hiker grabbed her.”
“Did she tell you she was abducted by a Bigfoot?”
“She hasn’t said anything that we could understand.” Rowan pulled the digital recorder out of his pocket. “Just this,” he played it for them.
“I’m told it’s Cherokee. A linguist here was able to translate a few words. Ancient ... evil ... witch ... tall man.”
“Tallman?” Bahati asked. “Native tribes have referred to the Bigfoot as Tallman.”
“That’s all we have,” Rowan said. “We’ve got video and audio data from our investigation that we’ll have to review to see if we have anything that’ll provide us any more information.”
“Provocative theory, Mr. Pierce,” Agent Miller said. “We’ll need copies.”
“Of course,” Rowan said. “I’ll contact my team and have them burn you a disc.”
Morrison handed him a business card. “Contact me here when it’s ready,” he said. “I’ll send a courier to pick it up.”
“You believe me?” Rowan stood, flabbergasted.
The two agents looked at one another briefly. “We don’t have enough evidence to believe anything at this point,” Morrison said.
“But you’re willing to consider that she might have been abducted by a Bigfoot?”
“Our job is to collect the evidence. Then we’ll consider all possibilities,” Miller said.
“Lauren is going to like you two.” Rowan grinned, feeling a bit relieved himself.